happy sloths are happy

Here are two people that you may deal with; A and B.

A asks from time to time what work needs to be done. A shows/feigns interest in the work that needs to be done. A agrees to do whatever work that is needed to be done. However, when A does give in work, it is of sub par quality. 

B generally gives no fucks about what work needs to be done. If you don't ask, B doesn't bother. B will do work if asked to do so, but with no guarantees it will come on time. The work B gives lies on the good side of the spectrum (near or far is to be debated).

I feel like it's a case of under promising and over delivering OR if you continually set low expectations of everything then everything will seem as though it just went way better than it could have been. 

As can be seen in the case of A, because A shows (loosely used) concern/interest in the work, you come to expect that A will do a proper job seeing as A seems to give a fuck about the work that needs to be done. However in B's case, B just flats out let you know they aren't going to give a fuck till you tell them to. So you come to expect that any work given from B will just be shit.

So when A gives you work, you expect it to be good, but what comes may be perceived as utter shit when it may in fact be just... Slightly mediocre. While the work B gives, you expect it to be 'eh, okay', but may be perceived as 'okay we can use this' when in actuality it really was 'eh, okay'. 

I don't know. 

Setting low expectations in life just seems like a really good thing to do at this point in my life right now.

Rambling.

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Reading Thought Catalog when my period is coming is a suicidal undertaking.

Liveblogging my emotions like the drama it is.

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Hope seems like such a cute and bright little thing, but in reality it's the girl of your dreams who leads you to think she can give you the world and then proceeds to carve out your heart from your chest and then makes you watch as she stomps it into the ground.

Okay enough liveblogging I suck and am I one of those moods where I just want to curl up into a ball and die but I cannot because I decided to slap a face mask on because I am breaking out. God, it's like my fingers just can't stop.